Time To Live
by Alisterine
Summary: Ellie's 14, living in a world infested with Biters. "The sun will still shine no matter how many dies," is her basic motto. Too bad in a world full of darkness, the sun won't shine as bright as it used to. At least, until She and Johnny, a 6 year old from her old group, find the group on the Farm by complete and unmistakably good luck.
1. Prologue

I was young, foolish, and scared. My lungs were in a terrible pain. I had no idea where I was going; I made a grave mistake by turning into the woods at night. I've staggered countless times, egging on the Biters that were feet behind us.

Johnny was crying, complaining about not being able to go further. I kept going, dragging him along. If we stopped now, we'd be in big trouble. The darkness was dangerous as it is, but with the Biters following us the way they were, hell-bent and ready for their next meal, there was no way we could stop.

I felt bad for the kid, really. He had just turned 6, and here he was having to grow up in this world. He was fully aware of the dangers, but he still was so full of childish innocence. So naïve and young. I'm only 8 years older than him, but my brain was developed enough and I read so many books and seen so many movies, I knew what to expect of this.

We staggered again. Breathing was hard, and with Johnny, who had just collapsed into a crying heap, I could tell we need to find a quick solution. I had my pocket knife, but I wouldn't be able to put down the small flock behind us. There was at least 6 Biters, too many to kill with one person using a 4 inch blade of a pocket knife.

We'd been dallying too long, I should have snatched him up when I had the chance. But I was bent at the waist, hands on my knees and trying to catch my breath. Adrenaline may be flowing through my veins, but it was still a lot of effort for me. I really should have paid attention and shot up when I heard the crackling of twigs under staggered footsteps.

"Ellie!" The scream bounced off the bark of the trees surrounding us. The voice that was usually so quiet and full of laughter screamed in terror. My head whipped up quickly in time to see the ghastly fingers curls around Johnny's arm, the yellowing teeth of the Biter inches away from getting him.

"Johnny!" Was that me? It was so loud, terrified. It made my throat hurt and my head pound. I hadn't ever killed a Biter. I'd always had the others of our group, the adults, to protect me. Why did I think it was a good idea to grab Johnny and run? I couldn't protect myself. What made me think I could protect him?

The air whooshed past me. A sudden arrow appeared in the Biters head, it fell to the ground and pulled Johnny with it. Oh, little Johnny. He was fine now. I was relieved, really I was. I rushed to Johnny, pulling him from the dead Biters grip and checking him over. I don't know what I was saying, I couldn't really tell. It was just a rush of words in a quivering voice. I was probably crying.

When I was sure Johnny was fine, I looked to where the arrow came from. Three figures stood, tall and proud. One had a gun and black curly hair. The other two is what stood out the most. The slouched man holding the crossbow, a vest over his chest. The other wearing a sheriffs uniform, right down to the hat.

I pulled Johnny toward me, and he grabbed onto my waist; afraid and probably in shock. I was still uncertain about meeting strangers, the last were bad people. But, my green eyes shone in the little light provided from the moon. Confusion, uncertainty, fear, but most of all relief and appreciation. "Thank you," I breathed out, tightening my grip on Johnny.

"Thank you."


	2. Ralph

Ralph wasn't exactly a plump man, but he wasn't exactly skin and bones either. In fact, I would guess that most of the weight he had was in muscle. He was a man of his mid-thirties, dark hair speckled with hints of grey and white. His slightly wrinkled, tanner face could show his aging process. Despite all the troubles in the world and the stress of being the leader, Ralph's hazel eyes always gleamed and crinkled from his smiling. He gave everyone faith and hope; he was always there, protecting all the people of our little group.

Ralph was the first one I met. He found me curled in the attic of my house, maekshift bed and canned food pushed to the side. I had never liked the attic, it had always struck fear into my core when I was younger. My bedroom was on the 2nd floor of the house, and the lock worked fine, but I still didn't feel safe. Every time I would make an accidental noise, I'd hear a persistent thunk against my door and the familiar groan of the infected. I could only assume it was my turned step brother. We were never close, but when all this started a few weeks ago, he'd gotten in the way and took the bite for me. When he finally slipped away from the fever, I couldn't gather enough courage to put him down. I was 14 and terrified. I gathered supplies I'd need and made camp in my room, and, eventually, moved to the attic.

The day Ralph found me, he was trying to find food for the group, settled a few houses down. He killed the zombie, if you will, that had been dead set at my door, and he said he just knew there must have been a reason. Despite my sturdy wooden door and strong lock, he managed to bust it and get into my heavily decorated room.

He found me when I scooted back further into the area when I heard the noise, and accidentally knocked the cans of food I had down with a loud noise. I had grabbed my pocket knife that my dad gave me way before this started, claiming I needed protection when walking around with my friends.

"'Ey, little lady," Ralph had exclaimed when he saw the knife in my hands. My palms were sweaty and my body was trembling, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I could see the gap where he was missing a tooth.

I guess he could tell I was scared. Hesat his weapon down, a shotgun of some sort with a knife attached to the end, and backed up, giving me some breathing room.

"You here alone?" His voice was deep, gravelly yet somehow comforting. It had been so long since I had heard another voice. I answered his question with a reluctant nod.

"Got a group. Couple o' houses down the road," He stated, soon offering a position in the group, said it was no good for a 'little' girl to be alone through this. I corrected him, told him I was 14, said that wasn't a classification of little. He laughed, corrected himself. I took his offer and joined his group, unofficially because he said they'd have to take a vote after I met everyone.

I took all my supplies with us, as an offering, I guess. Ralph made small conversation with me as we trudged the abandoned street. He told me how he had lost the tooth I had noticed earlier, claimed it was from a bar fight in his younger years. But he seemed too soft hearted for that to be true.

When we got to the group, everyone was happy with the bags of supplies that we brought. They asked about me. Someone asked my name, everyone stared.

"Ellie," I answered. My last name wasn't important. At least, not any more, really.

After they lost interest in me, a lot of them talked with Ralph. It was then that I noticed just how important Ralph was to this band of survivors. They all looked up to him; he made it feel sort of like a family. And I was happy to be a part of that.


	3. Johnny and Margaret

Among the mass of faces, the one I noticed most was the little kid attached to a slightly plump lady's hips, her arms glued around his small frame. The child had a knuckle in his mouth, sparkling brown eyes staring at me in curiosity. His mop of brown hair was messy and short, sticking in all directions. What might have caught my attention the most was the egg shaped birth mark on his right cheek that was only slightly darker than the rest of his tanned skin.

The lady holding him was noticeably two shades lighter. Her long tresses of dusty brown was pulled into a braid that laid over he left shoulder blade. She had a single dark brown freckle on the nape of her neck, a sharp contrast to her pale complexion. A ring was on the fourth finger of he left hand, gems sparkling when light hit it just right.

"That's m' boy Johnny," Ralph informed when he saw my gaze on the paid. "And his momma, Marg. Love o' my life," he added pleasantly. I nodded in understanding.

"Y'all married? She's got a ring." I was curious, naturally. I always did find myself dying of curiosity no matter what it was about or who it was directed to. It was just part of my nature.

Ralph let out a boisterous laugh, booming in the quiet chatter from the others. "Nah, girl. We ain't married, but we was planning on it."

I nodded again. The more I knew of everyone, the less of an outsider I'd feel.

I saw Johnny whisper into his mothers ear, just before Marg set him on the ground. He shuffled in our direction, wringing the navy blue t-shirt he was wearing.

"Daddy," he was so quiet, I had to strain my ears just to hear what was said. "I'm hungry." I glanced at Ralph, who gave a sheepish grin.

"It's been a few days. Gotta feed everyone, ya know." He reasoned before he brought his attention back to his son.

"We gotta ration it, bud." I felt bad. I hadn't gone a single day without some sort of food since the very beginning; my house was always well stocked with non-perishables since my parents weren't always there to cook. It was rare for them to actually be home, really. Both my mom and my step-dad worked long shifts at a nursing home; my mom as a nurse, and my step-dad as a janitor.

I patted my pocket; surely I had something to hold the boy over for a little while. With a small noise, I produced a granola bar from my pocket. It wasn't the best choice, but it'd have to do for now, I supposed.

"You can have this," I offered, stretching the food out toward him. He hesitantly took it after looking at Ralph, who had nodded in an encouraging way. The smile that lit up Johnny's small face and showed the adult teeth poking out of places on his gums would be enough to melt even the coldest of hearts, really. Or maybe it was just me. I always did like little kids. Something about how they saw things made me appreciate them, before they're tainted by the real world and reality.

"Thank you!" Even if his voice was but a murmur, I could hear it just fine at that moment. His eyes practically sparkled when he looked up at me, and I just knew that I'd make sure this kid stayed alive through all this.

"You're welcome," I replied just as he turned and ran excitedly back to his mother, who was watching the exchange with a smile. She nodded at me. I nodded back. Later that night, she thanked me for giving her son some food. I didn't tell her that that's all I had that day. My stomach was twisting for a while, and I was pretty sure there was a possibility that I'd throw up. I told her it was no problem, didn't mention the fact that I had no other food with me. That kid was the groups ray of sunshine in the dark. There was no way I'd see that go away.

Which got me to thinking. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad, after all.


	4. Taylor and Kaitlyn

It was almost too odd to see how everyone interacted. As a new addition (officially voted to stay), I wasn't nearly as close as everyone else. It was hard to interact normally when all you hear at night is collective groaning. Everyone else seemed not to be bothered, but I would always have it at the back of my mind, nagging at me every second.

Among the group, nearest to my age, were Taylor and Kaitlyn. At 5'7", Taylor was taller than Kaitlyn by at least three inches. She had dark brown hair, cascading to her waist. It was naturally straight and obviously well taken care of. She had a pair of black rimmed glasses covering her green flecked brown eyes, and I could only imagine what would happen if they were to break.

Kaitlyn had a lighter color of hair, auburn but mostly the red tint was noticed. It only went down to her shoulder, but she kept it tied with a green scrunchy. Both her and Taylor had a similar bisque skin complexion. Kaitlyn's bright irises were a pale baby blue that sparkled no matter how dim the lighting was.

Kaitlyn and Taylor were always together, joking and sharing stories from when the world was normal. I was awestruck by how nonchalant they seemed to speak; how unconcerned they were when speaking of old friends and classes from the high school they attended two counties away.

"Hey, Ellie," Kaitlyn called, amusement laced within her soft cvoice. It made me a little uneasy with how casual she seemed. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen." I replied, staring at the pair of best friends. I was, in a way, wondrous as to why she was asking.

"Finally!" Taylor groaned loudly, throwing her head back in an exaggerated manner. "That puts me at third youngest instead of second," She added after a moment. Personally, I didn't see what the big deal was. It doesn't matter how old or young you are anymore, but I guess old habits die hard. Still, it took a few moments for my brain to register what she had said, finally I understood it as Kaitlyn's tinkling laughter filled the otherwise quiet room.

"Look at that! Now Ellie here and Johnny boy are the babies of the group," Kaitlyn teased lightly, probably to lighten the mood. Maybe she's not as dense as I thought and noticed how, even though I was slouched in my standing position, I still wasn't feel completely comfortable around the two.

Taylor joined in on Kaitlyn's laughter, and before I knew it, so had I. I didn't know why I was laughing. Nothing was funny about the exchange at all, but here I was: eyes tearing up and arms wrapped around my stomach, which was cramping, trying to bring air into my lungs. Kaitlyn and Taylor weren't in much of a better state: Taylor's laughing turning into what used to be called the silent retarded seal laugh and Kaitlyn's turning into a snort.

The three of us laughing together like this almost felt like a magical experience, in a way. It felt…. Normal. Had I known normal would soon be hard to find, I'd have savored it more at that moment instead of missing it like I often did now.

But you know how the saying goes: All good things come to an end.


	5. Aidan

I had been an official member of the group for 3 days at this point. I got into a routine by now. I'd attempt to sleep at night, wake up only a few hours later. I'd ration out the food evenly among the members, give it to them when they awoke and receive a thanks in response. Johnny would ask me to play with him, and I would until Ralph would give me a task. Finish and repeat.

At the third day, Aidan had come down the stairs, causing as much noise as you possibly could stomping down the stairs. He had the rifle in his hand, pointed at the ceiling; it was the gun for the person on watch to have. He rushed over to Ralph and began to speak in hushed tones with him, back turned away from everyone else.

Aidan was not an unattractive fellow. He had curly strawberry blond hair, going only below his earlobes. There was a scar above his left eyebrow, and a scruff of sideburns on his face. He had three piercing on his left ear alone. He had an almost rugged appearance, his green eyes constantly filled with a fierceness that could send anyone running if they didn't know how much of a soft heart he really was.

After Ralph and Aidan had finished talking for a few minutes, Ralph called a meeting.

"Look here, folks. I know we had a pretty solid feel for this house, but it's time to move on." His usual joyful tone had a hint of disappointment. The others stirred anxiously around me.

"Why?" That deep of a voice could only belong to Jordan. He was hesitant, though, in his speaking.

"There's a lot of Biters around. More and more come each and every night," Aidan's gruff voice announced. "Gotta get out before we're swarmed. Or game over." I felt an ounce of anger stir deep within me, not feeling it wise for him to say such a thing in front of sweet, innocent six year old Johnny. I bit my tongue from saying anything, choosing to stare at him. He noticed and matched my stare.

"Wanna keep all of us safe. Go somewhere else, find more supplies. See if we can find more people," Ralph reasoned. He was a really gentle and thoughtful guy, that Ralph. I was afraid it'd be the death of him one day.

"We pack up tomorrow, stay one more night, and load up the next morning," Aidan's authoritive voice stated, Ralph nodding as back up on the command.

Despite Aidan only being 18, unlike Jordan who, like his twin sister, was 22, he was considered the co-leader of everyone. He could think on his feet and get out of sticky situations in a moments notice, not to mention his knowledge of guns and vehicles. It was amazing how much knowledge can be in someone people would consider an uneducated individual by their appearance.

I suppose it should have been comforting to know there was two leaders to protect us, but in reality, it'd cause problems later. Because no two people have the same opinions when it comes to leadership. In earlier history, things like that always ended up in the same place: a fight, or death. A small part of me nagged myself in the back of my brain.

Because I just knew it'd be the cause for the groups demise.


	6. Jordan and Sydney

An unmistakable duo I thought they were. A couple days into this group, I could tell they shared many similarities. Matching caramel skin, chocolate brown eyes. They were nearly the same height, Sydney maybe an inch shorter. Jordan had a shaved head, prickling of black hair apparent. Sydney's hair was dyed bleach blonde and cascaded down to the middle of her back when she wore it in a tight ponytail. They were always near each other, tearing and laughing at each other. Even their laughs sounded similar, although Jordan's was much deeper than Sydney's twinkling laughter.

They were playing a shoving game when we were supposed to be packing our supplies, but I didn't mind too much. There were obvious additions to the Biters aimlessly staggering, even more than there was the day before. It wasn't a rushed effort, there was still not enough to cause any problem with leaving, so I wasn't too concerned by their procrastination. Although, I wasn't too happy when I was bumped into, dropping the cans that I had gathered in my arms.

"Oh, damn! My bad," Deep voice matching the muscled appearance of the man.

"Sorry, didn't mean to push my brother into you." Twinkling, light voice; gentle in every way that matched her delicate appearance; a sharp contrast to her fraternal twin brothers.

"No, it's fine," I assured, squatting and gathering the cans into the empty bag they would have wound up in anyway. "Things happen, no big deal." It wasn't either. Had it happened back when things were normal, I probably would have gotten angry, huffed and sent a sarcastic remark before stomping away. But things are different now.

"I like this girl!" Jordan hooted loudly, causing me to cringe at the volume. Sydney laughed with him and agreed. I didn't understand how they decided they liked me when this was the first official time actually talking. I didn't bother bring that up, though.

"Hey, I was wondering, where are your parents, anyway?" Sydney questioned moments after their laughter subsided. It was a sudden twist in conversation, but I knew they didn't stay on one subject too long.

I shrugged in response. "They worked a couple towns over at a nursing home," I added. My dad was one of the janitors and my mom an LPN; the job was the reason they had met to begin with.

"You think they'll come looking for you?" Jordan wondered. I was close with my mom, surely enough, but not too close to the step-dad that lived with us. Nonetheless, I still loved the two of them, but I had accepted death as a more likely option toward the beginning. Sucking in a deep breath, I answered, "They would have by now."

Sydney's dark eyes held mixed emotions; sad, confused, pity maybe. "So you think they're dead?" She was crest fallen, like she wanted my answer to be different than it was.

"Probably," I responded honestly. "The sun'll still rise if they are." I had grown to believe death at the right time was a good thin. I liked to believe that it was the world's way of saying it was someone's time for a new life- a new story.

Jordan and Sydney had gone quiet after that, looking at each other with their matching eyes, as if they were having a telepathic conversation. Maybe they were. I had always wondered if twins really had the ability to do that. It's an idea that always had sparked my interest.

Just like the theory of an apocalypse did.


	7. Flee The Area

**((Quick Author's Note: sorry these few chapters might have been boring, it's basically just fillers before getting to the actual story, which should be starting after the next chapter. Also, thank you for those who have reviewed! I appreciate it!))**

* * *

I suppose it was convenient that the two car garage was in the back yard, surrounded by a tall white privacy fence. It made lugging supplies easier when you didn't have to worry about being attacked. I still felt uneasy about being out here though; there was only the wooden plants separating us from who knows how many Biters that were pounding on the splintering wood.

I was on the job of taking the gas cans and adding fuel to the cars. Ralph had managed to get three on gallon gas cans, which is better than nothing, really. I emptied one in both the vans we had, supplying the last in one of the trunks of the vehicles just as Aidan busted in.

"Hey, kid, you know how to start a car?" He questioned, throwing a bag into the trunk of the car that I hadn't paid much mind to. I felt an eyebrow quirk up. Who didn't know how to start a car?

"Yeah," I drawled. He nodded at my answer and tossed me two sets of car keys. I only managed to catch on, the other set clanging against the cement floor.

"Start 'em up. We gotta GO," He commanded, moments after turning and running out of the garage.

I knew better than to question the task before doing it now, but had it been normal, I would have until I had a straight answer. I stuck the keys in both the respective cars and twisted until I heard the satisfying purr of the engine starting on both the vans. Right after, I climbed out and began to walk toward the open garage door.

I took two steps before I froze on the walkway. A rotting Biter had managed to somehow break and crawl partially under the fence, reaching out toward the house with its irritating groaning. A chunk was missing from its cheek, and from what I could see, it's neck; the milky eyes that were bloodshot, dried blood around the injuries. It was terrifying to see; to know that once we leave, we'll see more and more like this, and even more that were twice as grotesque. I could hear clawing at the boards, see shadows of multiple bodies only inches from being in the vicinity.

I could hear glass breaking, it was distinct among the collective groans. Shouting came from the house, and that's when I saw everyone filing out, carrying the rest of what wasn't thrown in the trunks. Ralph was carrying Johnny tightly in his arms, Marg right at his heels. Jordan had a hand on Sydney's forearm; Aidan was pushing Taylor and Kaitlyn forward, taking a risk at being last.

"Go!" Aidan shouted as they reached half way between the garage and the house; the house that had Biters in it now. My body refused to move though as I stared at the mess. "Go," I hadn't noticed Aidan moving faster, surpassing the others; hadn't noticed him get so close to me, where he pulled my arm in an almost painful way and spun me around, keeping a grip on my arm as he dragged me in the garage.

The group was suddenly moving in right behind us, tossing bags horrendously into the back and getting in one vehicle or the other. Ralph shoved me in the black van after sitting Johnny in there before he and Aidan pulled the metal garage doors up and, together, ran back to the drivers seat of whichever car was theirs.

I felt the car jerk forward, heard the screeching of the two sets of tires; the sound of little Johnny sobbing into the seat he was curled into a ball on.

Twisting in my seat, I stared at the swarm of Biters pouring into the open garage, watched the ones who were too brain dead and staggering behind the cars. I could see other car being driven by Aidan holding the rest of the team. Aidan was in the front, Jordan and Sydney in the middle and Taylor and Kaitlyn behind them. Taylor and Kaitlyn were clinging to each other; Jordan was comforting his sister. Aidan had his mouth set into a grim line.

Looking back at the house, I wondered why this affected me so much. I had no emotional attachments to the place; I hadn't even known who lived there before despite living in the same house only a few homes down for 4 years.

Why was I feeling so sad? So emotionally drained? Exhausted mentally, physically, in every possibly way that I could? Most of all, why did pain spike my heart with every beat.

Turning forward in my seat, I looked at the road ahead, but mostly, I looked forward at the future, wondering what it would hold for all of us.


	8. Realize The Obvious

Ever since we'd been on the road, I've felt myself getting colder and colder. I isolated myself more. Smiles were rare, even for the precious little Johnny. He may have been the groups light in the dark, but he was too dim for me. I wasn't the only one who was having trouble reaching the light. I suppose it started on that first night on the road. The first time the group lost any member thus far.

The first night, we had stopped in a small little cabin- one that didn't seem like enough floor space for all of us. It had one story, one bedroom, and the essential rooms that every other house came with. The floorboards squeaked, the windows were cracked, and the place was an absolute mess, but it had been the only place we'd seen for miles. We'd fit in there, barely, and nothing was wrong with the place; there wasn't any signs of Biters anywhere near the place. Aidan scoped it out before we settled in for the night.

The problem was the sound in the middle of the night, nearly seconds after I had managed to cut off the sound of plaguing thoughts in my brain. It was so loud, so terrified and in pain and full of tears and I was sure I heard some gargling with it. Everyone jumped up from where they were throughout the house, everyone become present around the culprit- all except Marg and little Johnny.

We stared down at a writhing Taylor. Sweat gleamed from the paling skin, only noticed by the spurts of light from the moon, blocked occasionally by leaved tree branches. Kaitlyn was holding onto Taylor's hand tightly, as if her hands were locked there, frantically shouting encouraging things- telling Taylor everything was going to be okay. But that was when Aidan nudged Ralph, nodded his head toward Taylor's shoulder. Blood was seeping through the navy blue t-shirt she was wearing.

Aidan convinced Kaitlyn, who had screamed at him when he reached for the agonized Taylor, to let him see what had happened. It was silent while he did so, aside from the two best friends, and I was only hoping that I wasn't the only one with fear blooming into anticipation as Aidan gingerly removed the cloth. There was a bite, not even that deep; it only looked as if two teeth had broken skin. Such a little thing to bring about the end of someone's life. My heart twisted painfully in my chest when I heard the choked sob from Kaitlyn, insisting that it wasn't going to do any harm. Taylor was crying for it to be over.

After a long night of everyone on edge, watching the dying fight Taylor was experiencing, morning finally came. Sun broke through the cracked window, across the bespectacled brown eyes of Taylor just as the life evaporated from them. With a heavy heart, Jordan pulled a broken down Kaitlyn from Taylor's chilled body. We watched as Ralph and Aidan hoisted the body of one of our members up, pulling it out of the house- away from sight through the window. None of the remaining in the cabin were put at ease until the single gunshot rang through the stilled air and a grim Ralph and Aidan walked out from the brush.

After a few hours, Kaitlyn calmed down. Or at least she had stopped crying. I continued to feel a numbing realization settle heavier and heavier in my mind. I realized we were not safe just because we had each other. We would never have a safe place. We were only survivors by luck and, maybe, skill. We'd all reach the same fate as Taylor. Breathing proved to be a chore at this point, every breath with every new thought was weighing down on me mentally.

And, for a split second, I had an echoing thought, whispered by my subconscious, that considered death being better than living in this world. And that only made me more scared- for me, and for every single other person who was changing to suit the world around them.


End file.
